Thundamentals: why can’t hip hop be vulnerable?
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20.09.2018

Thundamentals: why can’t hip hop be vulnerable?

thundas.jpg
Words by Zachary Snowdon Smith

Thundamentals are making hip hop hurt with I Love Songs, a bittersweet album that goes easy on the swagger.

“When hip hop started, it was really inclusive,” says Brendan Tuckerman – better known as Tuka. “It’s been pretty misconstrued in mainstream media, what hip hop is. The perception that the masses might have, that it’s all about consumerism and violence and objectification of women, is a misconception.”

‘I Miss You’, the album’s first single, is a gospel-tinged meditation on the loneliness of living adrift among thousands of online “friends”. Born in 1985, Tuka is part of the last generation who can recall life before social media – when new music arrived through word of mouth or late-night rage viewings.

“The relationships you have online keep you in touch, but it’s not the healthiest way to keep up with someone,” Tuka says. “This phenomenon of everyone on their phones in public all the time – kids see that as normality, but, if I stop and think of myself 20 years ago, I barely used my phone at all, and I really had some serious, awesome connections with people that you didn’t have to go out of your way to maintain. These days, you can be cut off but still connected.”

Though Tuka admits there’s plenty of bravado to be found in the Thundamentals back catalogue, on this album the band made an intentional decision to bare all.

“Showing vulnerability is a sign of strength,” Tuka says. “If you can show a stranger or an enemy – not that I have enemies – your weak spot, it shows you’re not paranoid about it anymore. It helps community relate to one another rather than only showing your wins.”

Tuka found his ideas echoed from an unlikely source: Canadian psychologist Jordan B. Peterson, who writes, in his chart-dominating self-help book 12 Rules For Life, that standing up straight makes you seem stronger precisely because it exposes your belly, putting you in a vulnerable position. Tuka has imbibed about 50 hours of Peterson’s lectures, which run the gamut from Stalinism to Jungian readings of the Bible and deadly-earnest dissections of Pinocchio and Beauty and the Beast.

Peterson drew some notice after criticising the free speech implications of a bill illegalising discrimination on the basis of “gender identity or expression” in Canada. However, he first went truly viral when videos appeared on YouTube of him calmly attempting to discuss the bill with groups of agitated protesters. Though Tuka doesn’t necessarily endorse all of Peterson’s views, he appreciates Peterson’s commitment to civilised conversation.

“I don’t find Jordan Peterson going out there and starting fights,” Tuka says. “He’s trying to defuse things, but still have an opinion. I like the idea of free speech and everyone making a clear argument and not approaching it aggressively. The way [Peterson] is going about the argument, people might find offensive, but it’s not aggressive. These conversations need to happen.”

Thundamentals aren’t the only musical group touched by Peterson’s influence – the lobster-loving clinician has even inspired his own nano-genre of music: “JBPwave,” in which samples from Peterson’s lectures are set to lo-fi hip hop beats. Peterson’s message has resonated with a generation wearying of its addiction to outrage.

“I’ve been so left and radical my whole life, and [Peterson] has brought me in a bit to appreciate elements of the system,” Tuka says. “The system can definitely be improved, but, let’s be real: in the last 20 years, we’ve pulled more people out of poverty than ever in history. Why is that not in the media? Why is everyone hating the world so much?”

Although platforms like Twitter encourage ephemeral expressions of love or outrage that are gone and forgotten in hours, Tuka observes that formats like podcasting allow for deeper and more thoughtful discussion than legacy media. This can allow listeners to trade in easy gratification for something allowing more thoughtfulness and vulnerability.

“I’ve found that the mistakes and the conflicts in my life are the things that have taught me how to win,” Tuka says. “Speaking on vulnerability is challenging hip hop and, if that’s doing something original – well, hip hop’s main theme is being original.”